


Guard Dog

by BalefireFlatlands



Series: The Balefire [14]
Category: Mad Max (Video Game 2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2019-09-19 20:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17008794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BalefireFlatlands/pseuds/BalefireFlatlands
Summary: The Imperator shows Scab favor.





	Guard Dog

“You need to watch your mouth Scab.” Jeet glowered at the War Boy coiled around his feet. Scab was supposed to be helping him with his inventory and telling him which pieces of scrap he needed for the cars, and what could go to other projects. But instead he was just being a handful.

That mouth of his twisted into a smug grin, a hand reaching up to the holster around Jeet’s thigh and trying to drag the Warlord down to his level. Jeet was wise to his schemes now though, backing away and resisting as Scab tried to climb up his leg.

“Yer worse than a little kid. Git off!”

Scab made one last pass to try and latch onto Jeet’s belt before squirming over onto his back and staring at Jeet in a way that would have probably been sultry if he wasn’t a tangled up mess. All this time in the Lighthouse and he still wasn’t used to Jeet turning down his advances. At least not like this, Scrotus had kicked him in the teeth when he got annoying, or smacked him around. Jeet used his words; still a strange concept to the loudmouth War Boy from Gastown.

“How has no one caved your face in?” Jeet toed Scab’s legs with his foot, trying to get him off his ass and back to helping him.

“Cuz I’d kill ‘em first.” Scab sighed and propped himself up on his palms, twisting around to get in a more upright position so he could see what he was doing. He grudgingly pulled a crate up against his chest and started to poke through it, annoyed that this hadn’t gone the way he wanted. Mostly in that they were both still wearing all their clothes.

Satisfied that Scab was actually going to do some work, Jeet grabbed a few more boxes off a higher shelf for Scab to go through, holding things up for him to say where they should go. It went well for a while, and then Scab gave a little wiggle and latched onto Jeet’s pants again.

Taken by surprise Jeet was knocked to the floor landing on his knees with a grunt. “Knock it off!”

Not listening in the slightest Scab slithered on top of him, fingers digging into his chest as his tongue licked up Jeet’s neck to his ear.

Jeet groaned, shoving him away so he could adjust himself into a more comfortable position. “You are horny as hell for someone who can’t even feel what’s happening.”

“But you can.” Scab waited impatiently before crawling all over him once more. “Have to serve my Imperator.”

Grimacing Jeet held him at arms length, not liking the sound of that at all. “You don’t gotta do nothin’. And how many times do I hafta say that I’m not a damn Imperator?”

“I’m your Champion.” Scab said as if that would convince Jeet of everything. He nuzzled up against him, fingers working the buckles of his vest to push it down off his shoulders.

“And that means you gotta pull my clothes off at every opportunity?”

“Yes.” Succeeding in his goal Scab tossed the vest to the side, fingers trailing up Jeet’s arms to graze the blades in his shoulder. “You’re a piece of Valhalla on earth and I’m showing honor for you.”

Jeet instinctively wrapped his arms around Scab to keep him from slipping off his lap, but he paused, brow furrowing, “That what they told you in Gastown?”

Finally stopping his fervent stripping of Jeet’s clothing, Scab pulled back a bit so he could look up quizzically, not understanding what he was being asked, “That’s just how it is.”

“You did this to Scrotus too didn’t you?” his tone indicating that wasn’t really a question.

Scab froze, looking elsewhere and not responding, which was answer in itself.

Eyes narrowing, Jeet pulled Scab against himself, rubbing his back as Scab awkwardly tried to wrap around him. That certainly explained a lot about Scab’s personality and odd behaviors; not to mention some of his scars. Jeet didn’t really know what to say, especially now that he’d completely killed the mood, “You don’t gotta do that.”

“Yes I do.” Scab’s heart started to pound, he gulped audibly before continuing, clearly frightened. “Did I lose your favor?”

Jeet groaned, he couldn’t handle Scab’s anguished look. “No.”

Scab recovered instantly, flashing a bright smile before he clawed at him, desperate and wanting to prove himself. He leaned up, tongue and teeth working up the destroyed side of Jeet’s face, fingers clutching hard at his shoulders.

Jeet leaned into it, enjoying the sensation, especially when Scab started to move lower, but he wasn’t too happy about being treated like Scrotus. He didn’t want to have anything in common with that psychopath.

“Hey hey, you’re getting all tangled, wait a sec,” Jeet squirmed, trying to sit up with the much larger War Boy sprawled on top of him. Scab had inched backwards to go for Jeet’s belt, and caught one of his legs on a bookcase while his other was twisted at an odd angle.

“Don’t care.” Scab pulled Jeet’s pants lower, trapping him beneath his body. He couldn’t feel it so he was ready to completely ignore any damage happening to his numb legs.

Jeet started to push him off and get up anyway, but Scab forced him down, considerably stronger than the scrawny Imperator now that he had him on the ground. Gasping, Jeet momentarily collapsed, caught by surprise as Scab engulfed him. “That’s a much better use for that mouth of yours.”

Scab gurgled something in response, drooling a little as he refused to pull off Jeet’s dick.

Well that was disgusting, but Jeet couldn’t find it in himself to care, reaching down to rub Scab’s head. Even that slight encouragement was enough for Scab to make some contented bubbly noises, treating Jeet to a host of skills he’d honed on his previous Imperator; significantly easier when he wasn’t choking himself on Scrotus’ monster of a cock. Jeet was drastically smaller, in all ways, which made it easier for Scab to manhandle him on the floor and deepthroat him without much trouble.

All the better for Jeet who was having trouble keeping his hips from snapping up into Scab’s face. Scab buried his nose into Jeet’s crotch, swirling his tongue as best he could with his mouth full.

Jeet muttered a curse, which was the only warning Scab got before he blew his load. Scab backed off with a slurp, swallowing hard and breathing heavy, very pleased with himself. He crawled forward, flopping down onto Jeet’s chest for some well deserved praise.

“Yeah yeah.” Jeet stroked his back, fingers following the contours of his muscles. “Still my champion.”

Scab contentedly wriggled. This part was something he’d never gotten with Scrotus, but Jeet would lay there and rub at him while he came down from his high. A very nice change from getting a boot to the face and thrown out.

Jeet was his favorite Imperator ever.

—

Jeet glared at the traders who had come to deal with him, not liking any of their offers. He was sick of the attempts to bargain and the big showy words better suited for someone at Gastown. He’d rather say what he meant and be done with it, not this back and forth game everyone wanted to play.

By the side of his chair was Scab, tensed up on his palms as if ready to spring and attack at the barest provocation. He was sneering at the men who were trying to pull one over on Jeet and get more than they deserved in the deal. They were good hagglers but unfortunately Jeet kept getting distracted by watching Scab’s shoulder muscles bunch and relax as he shifted from hand to hand to keep his balance. That would have been a much nicer way to spend the afternoon.

Looking bored, Jeet kicked his leg over the arm of his chair, leaning on his elbow and getting ready to cast this group out. He was tired of listening to this. Cutting the trader off he made a sharp motion with his hand, “Two barrels water and a crate of scrap. Take it or leave it.”

“Now look, we’re not about to-” He’d started to approach Jeet menacingly, but was met with Scab, bristling and looking ready to strike.

Jeet didn’t flinch, putting his hand on Scab’s shoulder lightly, causing Scab to settle back obediently. “I’m not about to sit all night debating this. You want the goods you take my offer. Else you can git on out my lighthouse.”

The trader paused, watching Scab. The War Boy wasn’t exactly intimidating, laying on the ground with his legs bundled together and apparently unable to stand. But the fact that Jeet had gotten this kind of obedience out of one of those brainwashed freaks from Gastown was pretty impressive. Still, it wouldn’t do to be seen as a pushover, what was a broken War Boy going to do to him anyway?

He pressed forward, “That’s not going to work for us.”

With a nonchalant shrug, Jeet pulled his hand off Scab’s shoulder, “That’s too bad.”

Deceptively fast, Scab lashed out grabbing the traders ankle and slamming his shoulder into his knees, toppling him over instantly. Reaching back to his belt he pulled out a long curved knife, scuttling on top of the man and holding it to his neck. He was grinning a deranged feral smile, clearly excited about potentially slitting this man’s throat and gutting him like an animal.

Jeet watched them smugly, “Offers good for about five more minutes.”

Scab pressed the knife closer, a drop of blood appearing to slide down the edge of the blade. He leaned further into the trader’s face, taking up his vision, “Your skin would make good leather for my carseats.”

“D-d-deal.”

“Get off him Scab.”

Scab snarled, looking over his shoulder at Jeet before reluctantly pulling the knife away. Instead of backing off, he slithered over the man, going to Jeet’s other side and propping himself up at attention, tucking the knife back into its sheath.

Patting Scab’s head affectionately, Jeet stood up, towering over the man on the ground with a smirk, “Pleasure doing business with you.”

—

Scab managed to resist pawing at his Imperator until Jeet kicked the door to the storeroom closed behind them. Not that the lighthouse residents didn’t know exactly what the two of them were doing in there, but Jeet still wanted to keep up appearances.

Setting him down on the table, Jeet started to undo the belts keeping the War Boy’s legs lashed together.

“Shoulda let me gut that guy.”

Jeet snorted, “I’ve still got blood on my chair from the last guy. You’re messy.”

“I’m thorough.” Scab smiled as he pushed Jeet’s vest off, one arm around his middle to keep himself upright.

“What you are is distracting.”

Leaning back on the table Scab folded his arms behind his head, “You like what you see?”

“But not what I hear.” Jeet finished stripping Scab down, arranging him on the table and dragging him to the edge. “I oughta gag you.”

“Bring your dick over here and I’ll do it myself.” Scab smiled huge, licking his lips slowly.

Jeet’s cock twinged, and he fought down the urge to take the War Boy up on his offer. Instead he spit into his hand, slicking himself up before thrusting into Scab, holding his legs up around his waist.

Luxuriously stretching and making happy noises, Scab rocked into the motion of the table beneath him before propping himself up and reaching out with one arm to try and drag Jeet even closer. He wished he could wrap his legs around him and pull him down to him, but then again, if he could move his legs he could feel what was happening and wouldn’t need the extra friction.

Grunting Jeet pulled himself out, surveying the floppy mess beneath him. His smile turned wicked and he shifted Scab over onto his stomach, maneuvering his ass into place. With one hand on his hip and the other harshly digging into Scab’s shoulder he slammed into him. Oh that was nice; Scab’s body was so much tighter like this and Jeet could watch those shoulder muscles at work as Scab scrabbled to hold onto something.

Legs numbly swinging with every thrust Scab wasn’t exactly thrilled with this position. He felt like he was about to fall off the table, and he had a death grip on the far end of it to try and keep from sliding around. His chest was being rubbed raw by the rough surface beneath him, and Jeet’s fingers were going to leave bruises in his shoulder.

Then Jeet leaned forward, hooking his arms around Scab’s shoulders, roughly pulling him back with every thrust to cram even more of Scab’s body around his dick. His tongue worked up Scab’s damaged spine, causing the War Boy to moan and arch his back before crying out as Jeet bit him. Hard. Drawing blood.

Not that Scab was ever quiet, the whole stronghold could hear them, but he was being exceptionally loud now. With his lower half flopping around like a ragdoll Scab was having trouble focusing on keeping himself from sliding off the table. He shuddered at the feeling of Jeet’s tongue and teeth against his back and neck, coupled with the tingly sensation spreading from his core whenever Jeet reached down to grab at his waist, holding him right where feeling began to decay.

He panted, mewling with his face smashed into the wooden table. A hand reached back for Jeet, wanting to be able to hold him or grope him, so overstimulated that he wasn’t able to coherently think about what he wanted.

Jeet rubbed his arm encouragingly, enjoying the noises Scab was making. There were quite a few bite marks all over Scab’s spine and shoulders, Jeet hadn’t been holding anything back. Then he collapsed against Scab, breathing heavy and listening to Scab’s furiously pounding heart. He muttered something about Scab being a great champion as he came down from his euphoric high.

“So you do like what you see.”

“Scab, shut up-” Jeet was about to say more but he was interrupted by a loud crack, followed by a few quieter crunching noises, and then the entire table collapsed, two of the legs buckling and sending them sprawling.

Arms flailing, Scab tried to grab onto anything to keep from falling, but ended up crashing chest first into the remains of the table with Jeet thudding into his back. Adrenaline surged in the suddenly frightened War Boy and Scab struggled to move or get away from the wreckage.

“You okay?” Jeet rolled off him, first annoyed at the destruction of a useful resource, and then snickering at the situation. He gathered Scab up in his arms, surveying the damage.

Scab was all hyped up and freaked out, cuddling into Jeet’s chest and wrapping his arms around his neck, fingers pressing deep.

“Still in one piece?” Jeet scooched towards the wall, cradling Scab in his lap. He didn’t look injured, well more than what Jeet had done to him anyway, but he certainly seemed to be agitated.

“Fine.” But he was still struggling to catch his breath. “Don’t like falling.”

“Ah.” That made sense. He’d been thrown from the car that had broken his spine and then been tossed from the upper story of the lighthouse onto the concrete and destroyed his leg. Probably not a good sensation for him.

“Sorry about your table Imperator. I’ll fix it for ya.” He nuzzled into Jeet’s neck, starting to crash now that the threat had worn off.

“Don’t worry 'bout the table, I’ll get someone to set it back up.” He nibbled at Scab’s ear, muscles starting to liquefy.

He was met with a contented hum as Scab nosed into him, relaxing to become dead weight in his arms. “You’re warm.”

Jeet snorted, “Get dressed, I’m not carrying you out of here naked.”

“Could just stay here.” Scab was slurring his words, sleepily turning to mush.

Admittedly Jeet didn’t feel like getting up either, but he wasn’t going to stay in the storeroom for the rest of the night. Reluctantly he put Scab down, getting up to pull his clothes back on haphazardly; then getting Scab’s pants mostly on, looping the belts he used to keep his legs bound together over his shoulder. It took everything in him to kneel down and pick Scab up, carrying the catatonic War Boy over to Blas’ room.

He pointedly ignored the smirks and stares he got from his residents, he didn’t want to acknowledge that they knew he’d been fucking Scab’s brains out. It would have been impossible for them to avoid knowing.

In his room Blas stared at the two of them in surprise, pushing his blankets to the side so Jeet had somewhere to set Scab down, “What did you do to him?” He reached out to pet at the bite marks and bruises covering the man’s back.

“He’s fine. He liked it.” Jeet plopped down on the other side of Blas, thoroughly exhausted in a way that he hadn’t been in a long time.

Scab moaned and squirmed happily, weakly reaching out to rest his palm on Blas’ leg. “Imperator shows me favor.”

“Oh shut up with that Scab.” Jeet rolled back and forth trying to get comfortable when his muscles were all tired and twitchy. Eventually he settled on wrapping himself around Blas, dragging him close to be a pillow for him.

Startled by Jeet being suddenly affectionate, Blas went limp, letting him manhandle his body into whatever position he wanted. Smiling softly he wrapped his damaged arm around Jeet’s back, reaching over to pull Scab closer as well, sandwiching himself between them.

He’d be miffed at Jeet in the morning for bruising Scab all up since he was the one who was going to have to deal with a sore War Boy who couldn’t move. But right now he was going to soak up all the attention. Maybe even take advantage of Jeet being all cuddly and soft for once.

Bullet Boys had needs too.


End file.
